


What is yours is mine

by flowerdeluce



Category: Black Mirror
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Misses Clause Challenge, Post-Canon, San Junipero, Yuletide 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerdeluce/pseuds/flowerdeluce
Summary: While exploring San Junipero’s limits and possibilities, Kelly and Yorkie realize their definition of heaven differs in one small but significant way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide 2017! 
> 
> Many thanks to ArisTGD for advice on Americanisms.

Yorkie never tired of dancing. What once scared her —for anyone might judge her awkward movements or the company she kept— now delighted her. San Junipero had that effect on its residents: it made them braver and offered more life than they’d ever experience elsewhere.

Dancing was part of their routine. Kelly preferred Saturday nights when the population increased, tourists flooding Tucker’s as though it was the only bar on Earth.

“What in heaven…?” Kelly’s mouth hung open, lipstick poised, frozen in her hand as Yorkie’s bizarre footwear choice caught her attention. “I thought you didn’t like heels?”

They weren’t just heels. They were knee-high stiletto boots in peach suede.

“I never said I didn’t like them.” Yorkie turned on the spot, exhibiting her full outfit. “I said I’d never really worn them.” Doubting herself, she added, “Do they look okay?”

Kelly chuckled, returning to her reflection and the task of applying her lipstick. “They look great. _You_ look great.” 

For Yorkie, getting ready was half the fun. As a full-timer, there were more options in terms of fashion. In fact, options were almost infinite in every aspect of her new life. She enjoyed dressing up, changing her outfit piece by piece until it satisfied. Of course, she could close her eyes a moment and save herself the bother but, since passing over, she’d noticed little things felt more authentic than they did as a tourist: static clicked and sparked as she pulled her favorite sweater over her head, tight jeans left indents in her skin when she took them off.

San Junipero was her only reality now – ‘real’ life didn’t wait on the other side, her soul shared between two worlds. Noticing subtle new features layering onto her experience came hand in hand with forgetting her old self: she experienced hunger and thirst, her hair greased if she didn’t wash or reset it, she felt the subtle temperature shifts when the weather changed. There were new details every day.

The more Yorkie learned about her second life, the less she cut corners. After a lifetime of having no choice over anything, she chose to take her time. Rather than changing her appearance with a blink, feeling full without eating, or resetting her appearance after a tumble with Kelly, she made the effort. That was why Kelly knew without asking, as they set off for Tucker’s, that her partner would enjoy the drive more than simply wishing herself there.

*

Stumbling on the sidewalk, Kelly laughed the way she did after too many Jack and cokes. They’d stayed past midnight again, watching the last remaining tourists vanish like computer glitches, leaving nothing but empty chairs, half-empty glasses and cut-short conversations behind. Hordes of fascinating people passed through Tucker’s, choosing to come and go over staying. Naturally, there was the odd weirdo who needed red-lighting but, overall, the crowd was a good one.

Approaching the Jeep, Yorkie winced, pace slower and more awkward than usual.

Kelly looked confused. “Do your feet hurt?”

Yorkie forced a smile, attempting to walk naturally in the boots she’d rued wearing not five minutes into their evening. “No, they’re fine. I’ll reset in a minute.”

“Hey,” Kelly sniggered, nudging Yorkie’s arm. “More like re _boot_! Get it?” Touching the Jeep’s hood, she angled her head, fluttering her eyelashes. “If you’re resetting, can you drive, please? I’m liking being drunk… too much.”

She was even more adorable when she was hammered.

Smiling, Yorkie agreed. She’d only had one drink; there was no need to reset to her default, sober state yet. Climbing into the driver’s seat, she accepted Kelly’s grateful kiss.

The drive home was difficult, and it wasn’t just the boots. Yorkie’s feet hurt so intensely she could barely feel the pedals. The pain throbbed, somehow worse when she wasn’t standing, hot and aching in her toes, soles, and heels. She tried to hide it, but Kelly was too observant for her own good, even under the bubbly weight of drunkenness.  

“They _are_ hurting you!” Kelly announced. “I thought you were set to zero?”

Pursing her lips, Yorkie stared at the road ahead and mumbled, “I am.” 

“You’re a bad liar.” Kelly folded her arms. “I don’t wanna worry about you getting hurt.” After waiting for a response, she blurted out, “Change it!”

“No, I—”

“Yorkie! How is this even a discussion?” She sounded sober.

“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, Yorkie closed them briefly. “Done.”

“Thank you.”

Swallowing, Yorkie pressed harder on the gas. She hated lying to Kelly.


	2. Chapter 2

The bath, filled to the precise level Yorkie liked, almost disappeared under the mountain of bubbles. Yorkie skipped filling it from the faucet to avoid waking Kelly – she’d wished for her perfect bath, and there it was. She preferred filling it herself, pouring bubble bath into the water’s stream, testing the temperature every few minutes, but it was cruel to make all that noise this early in the morning.

Pushing open the window, she stepped into the bath and sank down into the water. The bubbles crackled against her ears as she tipped her head back, submerging herself in the warm, soothing water. Outside, gentle waves lapped at the shore; distant gulls cried out. Steam rose above her, the salty sea breeze snatching it through the window before it settled on the glass. Exhaling, she closed her eyes, lost in the moment’s tranquility.

The bathwater smelt of strawberries and cream. Yorkie was in the process of trying every bath product San Junipero offered, keeping a mental note of fragrances she liked and those she didn’t like as much. Smell was a sense the hospital ignored. All those years in that bed and they thought of giving her things to watch, to listen to, but never to smell. She’d missed the common odors of life: fresh coffee, sidewalks after a downpour, even gasoline. Her room was nothing but sterile sheets, antiseptic, plastic and latex, and that dreadful cheap shampoo.

Lifting a leg from the water, she inspected her foot. The boots had left her with red blisters and damn, they were ugly. Stung too. With quiet fascination, she poked one of them before realizing it was the worst decision she’d ever made. At least she could stick band-aids over them, and socks, before Kelly woke up. It would be interesting to see how long they’d take to heal here.

“Good morning.” Rubbing her eyes, Kelly trod towards the sink.

Yorkie jerked her leg underwater, hiding it beneath the bubbles.

“You should’ve woken me,” Kelly mumbled, unscrewing the toothpaste.

“It’s early.”

“Yeah, but—” she shoved her toothbrush into her mouth “—we’re going skating, aren’t we?”

Yorkie laughed. “Are we really doing it? I thought that was the drink talking!”

At Tucker’s, the boots started a discussion about how far Yorkie had tested her legs in San Junipero. Sure, she could dance, run, swim, and evidently walk pretty well in heels, but could she roller-skate? When Kelly dared her to try it the next day, promising to drive them to Webber’s rink, Yorkie never expected her to remember, let alone go through with it.

“A dare is a dare.”

*

Webber’s was a dream world from the carpet —a muddle of multicolored shapes and spirals— to the ceiling. A giant disco ball sent specks of light drifting over every surface. Rainbows, stars, and planets decorated the walls, neon signs lighting the way to the bustling bar, rental booth, and rink. Young women sped about the foyer in leg warmers and metallic leggings, hair trailing them, wheels turning beneath their feet.

“This place rocks!” Kelly said, the skates she’d collected while her partner took everything in propped under an arm. Forced to shout over the music —loud enough to hear from the parking lot— she called Yorkie and gestured for her to follow her to some empty seats.

“Thought you’d like these,” she said, handing Yorkie the skates she’d chosen for her. In the time they’d spent together, she’d gotten to know her taste. The white leather skates, with lilac and pink stripes across the side, were gorgeous.

“And,” she continued, closing her eyes a moment, “these, are mine.” A pair of bright green skates appeared on Kelly’s feet, complete with glitter toe caps and neon laces – authentically her. “Not bad!”

Yorkie smiled nervously, slipping off her shoes, trying not to react to her sore feet. Perhaps resetting was a good idea. Skating would be hard enough, skating with painful feet while hiding it from Kelly, near on impossible.

“I’m not sure about this,” Yorkie said, staring at her white socks against the colorful carpet.

“It’s easy,” Kelly encouraged, standing. “Come on. I’ll hold your hand until you tell me not to.”

Putting the skates on, Yorkie winced as she laced them tight; hopefully, Kelly didn’t notice. They were comfortable, surprisingly, gripping her feet in different places than the boots had. After Kelly helped her up, trying to stay vertical was distracting enough to almost forget about the blisters.

The rink’s polished floor, hard to see through the spinning lights, was slipperier underfoot than the carpet. For the first few laps, Yorkie clung to Kelly’s arm, letting her drag her rather than attempting to find her own momentum. Others sped past, singing along to the music and impressing each other with tricks: balancing on one foot, skating backward, moonwalking. Yorkie loved watching them and, after a few songs, found the confidence to let go of Kelly’s arm.

“Shift your weight like this,” Kelly said, demonstrating. “And if you get wobbly,” slowing down, she went onto her tiptoes and came to a stop, “that’s it.”

After a few solo strides where she no doubt resembled a foal using its legs for the first time, Yorkie laughed cautiously. “I think I’ve got it.”

Kelly’s smile gleamed, eyes sparkling as she skated backward, stretching her hands out for Yorkie to take. “Look at you!” Slowing, she let Yorkie bump into her and kissed her cheek, a hand steadying her waist. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

Motionless, wheels roaring on wood around them, music blaring, they smiled at each other.

Kelly broke the moment with a wink. “Wanna go faster?”

“Oh, I don’t know I—”

“Come on,” Kelly tugged her hand, “you wanna go faster.”

Facing forwards, Kelly sped up, gesturing over her shoulder for Yorkie to catch up. When she was further away, Yorkie panicked, knowing she couldn’t grab her arm if she lost balance. A group of skaters passed between them, keeping their distance, but they distracted nonetheless.

Losing her footing, Yorkie fell face first, both hands slamming against the floor and breaking her fall. It all happened in a second.

“Ow! Shit!” The impact left her palms hot and stinging. Otherwise, she was fine. Looking at her hands, still shocked by the sensation, two familiar green skates rolled up beside her.

“You okay?” Kelly looked more put out than worried.

“Yeah, fine.” Reaching up, it took Kelly a fraction too long to take her hand.

“Let’s try again.”

*

Exhausted from the exercise, and finally having had enough of A-ha and Yazoo, Kelly suggested they check out a new diner on the other side of town. It was perfect weather for a drive: clear sky, warm sunshine, and a decent breeze.

While Kelly drove, Yorkie looked out across the horizon, the city coming into view in the distance. New things popped up in San Junipero all the time, the map increasing occasionally to accommodate; it’d take years to see it all. There were seasonal features, like Christmas stalls and traveling circuses, and some requiring invitations. One was on the outskirts: Cypress Ridge, a place like San Junipero but for children to grow into adults. Some full-timers worked there, others only went to visit a resident. It was a sad but wonderful place.

The view changed depending on what year they visited. Despite choosing 1987 as their main year, they could still dip in and out of others if they wished. One night, while star-gazing on the sand outside the cabin, they’d realized San Junipero offered the opportunity to visit time periods neither of them could’ve seen in their natural lifespans. Some years later, they might visit the 2050s, the 2100s, see how the world changed while they were gone. San Junipero wasn’t only a way to enjoy the past and continue the present, it offered the future too.

“No way,” Kelly said, looking in the side-view mirror, enchanted by the car behind. Slowing, she let them overtake, encouraging it. As they did, accelerating fast, she waved to the driver and yelled over the engine, “I love your car!” 

The driver waved back and blew them both a kiss. His car, mustard yellow and streamlined in shape, pulled back into their lane in front of them. A Toyota Celica.

“Isn’t that the first car Richard bought?” Yorkie asked.

Kelly looked touched. “It is,” she said, smiling as she watched it speed into the distance. “Can’t believe you remember that.”

Yorkie had spent hours, weeks, listening to stories of Richard and Alison. Kelly shared her life, talking until they fell asleep, or she sobbed in Yorkie’s arms, tears of sorrow and happiness all at once – sorrow it was over, happiness for having someone to share it with. Yorkie loved to listen, and she remembered it all.


	3. Chapter 3

They sat together at a small circular table in the middle as the booths lining the windows were full. The diner had menus to suit every mood, all illustrated with mouth-watering drawings: shakes and sundaes, greasy burgers, fries, chicken and waffles, even Italian dishes for customers fancying something a little more upmarket.

“D’you think anyone actually cooks this stuff?” Kelly asked, lying her menu down. “Properly, like in the kitchen?”

“I’ll ask when we order,” Yorkie mumbled, still making up her mind what to get. It all looked amazing.

In Yorkie’s first week as a full-timer, she’d discovered she loved cooking. Her food was terrible at first, but she got better with practice. She enjoyed the whole process: visiting the library for recipe books, shopping for the ingredients, and putting them all together. There was no satisfaction in desiring a meal and, in a blink, finding it there on the table, place laid. There was even less in setting her hunger slider to zero. Being fed through a tube for forty years left her with a ferocious appetite.

The waitress came to take their order. As Yorkie went to give hers, she noticed Kelly looking the waitress up and down with interest and lost her train of thought.

“Sorry, uh,” Yorkie blinked and turned her attention back to the menu. “Can I get a coke and the supreme burger and fries, no onions?”

“Of course.” The waitress scribbled the order onto her small notepad. “And for you?”

“Same for me, thanks.” Kelly smiled at her, watching her write. “Is it prepared the old-fashioned way?”

It took the waitress a moment to catch her drift. “Oh, yes! We think it tastes better that way.”

“It does,” Yorkie interrupted.

Nodding, the waitress asked if that was everything.

“Yeah, thanks.” Kelly’s smile fell the moment the waitress turned away. “Pretty girl like that’s wasted here.” She crossed her hands on the table, looking somewhat disappointed.

“What do you mean?”

“Who’d want to spend their eternity waitressing, or flipping burgers?” Leaning across the table, she lowered her voice. “D’you think they put fake people here to do these jobs? Like AI or something?”

“Oh,” Yorkie breathed, relieved Kelly hadn’t been checking the waitress out for a different reason. “Surely not. That’d be… so weird.” She thought about it for a while and then added with a shrug, “I like cooking for you. I’d do it for someone else.”

“I know.” Kelly squeezed her hand, grateful. “Waitressing though? I don’t get it!”

The waitress’ return broke them apart, placing their coke glasses between them. Kelly stared at her, nodding a thank you.

Yorkie understood it perfectly. After the crash, she’d have given anything to have had a meaningful occupation in her life. It didn’t have to be exciting. Cleaning tables, making coffee, ringing up groceries, they all involved interaction, served a purpose. Waitressing was a dream for someone in her position: talking to people, doing a job that put money in her pocket, making friends with colleagues, and having somewhere to be when she opened her eyes in the morning.

Peering over her shoulder, she watched their waitress peg her latest order up. Yes. She could be her. If she’d never met Kelly, she could be working here. Having a responsibility, even one as straightforward as bringing plates to and from a table, would’ve been a personal heaven.

“Don’t know about you,” Kelly said, breaking Yorkie from her thoughts, “but I’m _ravenous_ after all that.” She’d already finished her coke, only the ice remaining. Turning it with her straw, it clinked against the glass.

“Hopefully the burger’s huge.”

“Hope no longer,” Kelly said, raising an eyebrow and nodding towards the serving counter.

Looking, Yorkie saw their plates waiting for the waitress, burger and bun standing tall within a sea of fries, steam rising above. Nothing had ever looked tastier.

They didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the waitress left the table, they dived in. Yorkie’s appetite bested her. Biting into a chunky fry, she burnt her tongue.

“Ah!”

As she pulled it from her mouth, Kelly’s fork dropped onto her plate with a clatter as she folded her arms.

“So, you did lie.”

Shit.

“You know, I thought I was imagining it at Webber’s, blamed it on the shock of falling.” Chatter at nearby tables quietened as she raised her voice. “I thought I was being unreasonable to doubt you!”

Guilt weighed heavy in Yorkie’s stomach. She stared at the food, unable to meet Kelly’s eyes. “Kelly—”

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t find out until you  _really_ hurt yourself?”

When she finally looked up, Yorkie didn’t think she’d ever seen Kelly look more betrayed. “Let me explain.” Kelly wouldn’t want to hear it, and she’d rather not have this discussion in public, but she owed her the truth.

Kelly raised a hand. “No, thank you! It’s your body. If you wanna mess it up that’s your problem. But you _lied_ to me.”

“I didn’t want to.” Yorkie’s cheeks felt hot. Not only were people looking, she wanted to fight her corner and didn’t know how good she’d be at it. The last argument she’d had didn’t exactly end well. “You didn’t give me much of a choice!”

Kelly’s mouth hung open. She went to speak but, unable to find the words, merely laughed instead. “Can you blame me?”

Yorkie met Kelly’s broken expression with one of determination. The last thing she wanted was to upset her, but she had to make her own decision about this.

Understanding, Kelly closed her eyes and shook her head. Then, she vanished.

Suddenly alone at the table, Yorkie’s anxiety set in. Daring to look at those diners occupying the tables beside her, she found them studying her sympathetically. She exited quickly and quietly, trying not to draw any more attention to herself.

The Jeep no longer stood in the lot. She knew the way home, but it was a trek. Kelly expected her to take the easy route, probably. But Yorkie didn’t want to continue the argument immediately, in a different setting. Walking back offered a chance to think, to rehearse the best way of explaining herself in a way Kelly understood.

In San Junipero, broken things mended. If you dropped a china cup, you didn’t have to sweep up the mess and buy a new one; it’d be whole again if you only wished for it. For the first time, Yorkie wanted to reset, and desperately, but Kelly wasn’t a china cup. This problem, they had to deal with together.


	4. Chapter 4

Wandering the beach’s white sand, the cabin in the distance, Yorkie stopped to sit on some rocks. This was her last chance to get her head straight before facing Kelly.

The rock formation had trapped a small pool of seawater from the tide. Perched beneath the waterline, a small starfish, orange and bumpy, reached an arm towards a clump of seaweed. Yorkie had seen one like it as a child while paddling in Bodega Bay’s low tide. If she remembered correctly, it was the same day a beached jellyfish stung her foot.

Prompted by the memory, she took off her shoes, placing them on the rock beside her. Rolling down her socks, she grimaced at the ugly mess of band-aids dotting her ankles. However much she’d wanted to watch them heal initially, they tired her now. Back in Bodega Bay, she’d have done anything to stop that sting from hurting. Her mom was mad at her for crying, for making a scene. She’d told her she just had to wait it out. Reality being what it was, that’s what she’d done. Perhaps shortcuts weren’t such a bad thing.

Closing her eyes, the salty breeze swept her hair across her face. She reset.

The band-aids and blisters disappeared, as did the subtle ache – a welcome relief. Looking out towards the horizon, foam hissing against the shore beside her, she understood the relief her renewal gave only existed because of the initial discomfort. It would be the same, she hoped, with Kelly: they’d fall out occasionally, have their differences, but then they could mend, stronger for the experience.

Leaving her shoes and socks on the rock, she strode towards the cabin with confidence, spreading her toes in the sand to really feel it underfoot.

Kelly sat on the decking, staring out to sea, a cigarette in her hand. She noticed Yorkie approach, glanced up at her, then looked back towards the water. Silently, Yorkie sat beside her. They shared the view until Kelly’s cigarette burned down, Yorkie’s head resting on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to worry anymore.” Kelly sounded tired. All her anger had gone. “I spent too long watching my loved ones hurting.”

“I know.”

“This place isn’t real, but that’s the point, isn’t it?” Kelly’s gaze focused on the horizon, the sun beginning its slow descent into the evening. “What if a tourist goes crazy, starts testing the boundaries and you’re in their way?”

“That’s unlikely.”

“Why would you take the risk?”

Yorkie sat up. She could have explained it a hundred different ways, using a hundred different words, but there was no easier way to say it. “Because I want to feel alive.”

Confused, Kelly asked, “Is feeling pain living to you?”

“Feeling _anything_ is.”

Kelly stared at Yorkie’s face with a sudden, quiet anguish. Reaching up to touch her cheek, as if realizing how insensitive she’d been, she whispered, “Tell me.”

Sometimes it was best to start at the beginning.

“It’s hard to describe what it was like, stuck, like that, for all those years. I felt nothing. No sensation, at all. At first, it was like being trapped. My parents visited a lot, in the beginning, then it became a weekly thing. Then there were excuses, their lives got in the way. I was so lonely. But you get used to it. I learned how to separate my mind from my body, like living in two places. You have to adapt.

“Things changed once the Comms Box arrived. I could request films and music and books, I loved books. I played games with the nurses – believe it or not, I was a fantastic chess player.” She laughed at the memory. Since San Junipero, she hadn’t missed it. “I didn’t talk much, preferred to listen. Nobody knew what I was thinking, and I liked it that way. It was the only control I had.

“San Junipero was… wow. I didn’t know if I wanted to try it. I was actually scared to leave that safe space in my head. The thought of returning was the scariest part, though. I didn’t want to hate being back in my body again. It had taken me so long to learn not to hate myself. Then I came here and,” she turned to look at the sea again, “I did hate going back. I’d forgotten what it was like to… I’d forgotten _everything_. It was overwhelming. Even standing up was the most incredible thing. On my first night, when I was walking to Tucker’s, someone looked at me and I smiled at them, and they actually smiled back. They saw me, not through me. In a few hours, I was entirely convinced that this was where I wanted to be. One hundred percent. I didn’t want to go back to that… fucking bed, where there was just, nothing.”

A tear stain glistened on Kelly’s cheek when Yorkie turned back to her. She didn’t remember seeing her cry.

“I’m so sorry, Yorkie.”

“I don’t want to be pitied.” It was why she didn’t speak of her life often.

“Pity isn’t a bad thing.” Kelly took her hand, holding it gently. “I saw plenty of it with Alison. It’s something you feel when you know you can never understand what someone’s going through without being them. I want to hear about it.”

“You don’t need to. There’s not much to know! When you do nothing all day, for your whole life, you’re not that interesting. That’s why I find it hard to talk about myself. Greg was the only person who seemed to understand. He was a dull man, bless him, but I was a dull woman – we had that in common!” He truly was a good man, and the only acquaintance they shared outside San Junipero. “I used to ask him to tell me about what he’d had for dinner, or watched on TV. Sometimes he’d tell me about how the other patients were getting on. That was as close as I got to other people’s lives.” She looked up at Kelly again, gripping her hand tighter. “And that’s why I love hearing about yours.

“I know you’re revisiting old memories here, but I’m making them. I want them to be as real as possible, no shortcuts. If that means, occasionally, I get a blister, or I burn my hand on the stove,” Kelly looked concerned, perhaps realizing Yorkie had hidden this for longer than she thought, “I’m okay with that. I spent too long feeling nothing to continue it here.

“You went through so much in your life, so I know being somewhere where you can turn off all the bad parts is heaven to you, but it isn’t for me. Let me have this, and trust that I can cope.”

Kelly nodded, another tear escaping, dripping off her chin. “I’m sorry. I never thought about it like that.” It hurt a lot to see her cry. “I’ve been… a real ass.”

“It’s okay, I should’ve—”

“You ‘should’ve’ nothing. I should’ve realized. I should’ve asked!” Tipping her head back, she swept both hands beneath her eyes, wiping the tears away. “To be honest, I assumed you didn’t talk about all that because it’s too upsetting.” Taking Yorkie’s hand again, she stroked a thumb across her knuckles. “You’re tougher than I give you credit for, always.”

Yorkie smiled, welling with happiness at being understood. “And you’re softer.”

Kelly chuckled, leaning in and kissing Yorkie’s mouth. As she did, she pinched her arm.

“Ow!”

“Just checking.”

Yorkie giggled. “Don’t!”

Kissing her properly, Yorkie stroked Kelly’s temple, pushing her hair behind her ear and holding her. They still had a great deal to learn about each other and, wonderfully, all the time in the world to learn it in.


End file.
